Presenting the Half Marathon Story and Photos

Because BYU just won and the kids are down, I can blog and Doug can watch interviews reliving the game. Perfect.

So...I loved my first half marathon! I'm so glad members of my ward, and MaryAnn and Bekah, encouraged me to run a half marathon, and I was on a high for most of the day about it. When I wasn't sleeping or taking Pepto Bismol. Here's the story.

At 6:05 am, the anti-heroine of this story woke up. We'll call her Spandex-girl. Spandex-girl wistfully thought about how the marathoners were just about to begin their race, and she still wished she'd trained for the marathon rather than the half. Oh well. She put on her spandex, pulled back her hair with a braid and a bow, ate oatmeal and toast, drank some water, and met her friends, Chrissy and Dana.

They drove together to Ross Park and were shuttled to the starting line, where they danced to music, used porta-potties, cheered for marathoners passing by (feeling empowered seeing the awesome women who were just as fast as most of the men!) and...started their race.

Spandex-girl was feeling incredible, probably in part because of the ibuprofen she took before the race, but also because she'd trained really well for the half marathon. Because she was wearing the watch that showed the girls' pace, mileage, and time, she was excited to note that they were running faster than the 10 minute mile she'd anticipated. In fact, they started out at a gorgeous 8:15 mile pace. Spandex-girl wanted to keep that pace, but Chrissy and Dana settled into the agreed-upon relaxed pace of about 9:40.

Spandex girl kept dodging other runners, trying to pick up the pace, and Chrissy and Dana never joined her when she sped up. So she slowed down. Then she sped up again, like the bouncy, excited runner she felt like. Then she slowed down again.

Spandex-girl had vowed that she would stay with Dana and Chrissy. This would be her Dana-and-Chrissy race. It would be fine because Spandex-girl would run another half marathon soon, she hoped. But Spandex-girl had a lot of energy and she was getting antsy.

So she put feelers out to Chrissy about 7 miles into the race. She asked how Chrissy would feel if she took off. Chrissy was a saint. She said Spandex-girl had probably trained harder than both she and Dana, and she ought to go for it. Dana agreed, saying Spandex-girl ought to do her best in the race. Spandex-girl thought about it for awhile...then relinquished the handy watch to Chrissy...and off she went.

She left her friends at about 7.5 miles, and they had run for about 1 hour, 15 minutes (although that doesn't make sense, based on the mileage reported on the handy watch). So when Spandex-girl took off, she thought, "Hey! Wouldn't it be cool if I ran this race in under 2 hours?!"

So Spandex-girl ran up the hills and down the hills, asking runners along the way what time it was, so she could see if her pace was realistic for getting to the finish line in two hours. She
a)sucked on weird protein goo,
b)drank water and dumped it down her front and back,
c)had some Gatorade and a tootsie roll,
d) never hit any walls,
e) passed people the whole times (but ONE guy passed her at the finish line), and
f) she made it to the finish in 2:00:25, which meant that
g) her pace for the last 5.6 miles was about an 8 minute mile.

Great story? I wish I'd had a watch to help me shave off at least 26 seconds. I loved the run, and I don't think there's anything more fun than passing people, except winning. Which I have never done.

But I feel bad about ditching my friends. They were incredible about it, but I'm ashamed. I wouldn't appreciate it if someone asked me if she could go on ahead, because the slower pace wasn't working for her. I wonder if this means I should become a solo runner? Or just start with people, with the understanding that we can take off or slow down at any time with no guilt?

Anyway, I am so glad I ran the race. The course is beautiful, so well laid out, so you're never facing the sun. The marathon is even more beautiful, because it includes 11 miles of gradual downhill on the back of Buckskin, a gorgeous mountain road. So anyone wanting to run a gorgeous, incredible run, come run with me next year.

There are no action shots because Doug didn't make it in time to take pictures. Luckily, he did see me while he was driving toward the parking lot. He tried a test picture to see if he could get one of me--that's the street shot. But he thought all the cars behind him wouldn't love it if he kept taking pictures, so he moved on. I'm just happy that he and the kids got to see me run. What a great day.